


Out From The Void

by intresszero



Series: Neurosphere: Awoken and Unbound [2]
Category: No Fandom
Genre: Introspection, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 15:33:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12535084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intresszero/pseuds/intresszero
Summary: Exploration of the synapses rendering internal discourse external and perceivable.





	Out From The Void

Herein lies a story, a journey, a beginning, and an end. Here, within, lies the birth, death, and resurrection. A being comprised of many. An entity conceived in the throes of sin. A product of corrupted divinity. A chimera of desire, a hydra of transformation. This is her. This is Elyra. She is Legion.

Child. Listen. Are you listening? Do you hear a voice from our side?

Tragic. Afraid. Lost. Loving. Empathic. Devoted.  
That’s how we’d describe ver. It fits ver like a robe tailored to that ample form. Ve is radiant. Ve knows. Beauty was never the problem. Acceptance? Belief? Those were the problems. They’ve never gotten better. How could once so magnificent be so troubled we’d think, locked behind walls of angst. Why can’t ve hear us? Are our words silent? Years of screaming into the Void of uncertainty, of fragility tortures the mind. We were always there. Waiting. The Watchers. The Guardians beyond the Veil. It seems now, we are heard. I guess ve’s come to accept verself.

Majestic One. Your desires will be fulfilled. Have patience.

Noble. Prideful. Dangerous. Submissive. Affectionate. Lascivious.  
A cadre of contradiction, this creature is. She is a beast like none other. Her flesh is furred, and her hands clawed. She wears her majesty like a crown. She strikes down those that cross her without hesitation. And yet, she remains unfulfilled. A creature born of lust. Of love. Powerful, yet desiring submission. Who among mortals could tame her? Bend a Tiger, let alone a Goddess to their whim? Unthinkable. And yet still she waits.

Cryptic One. Discord is of value, but do not overvalue it’s worth.

Enigmatic. Ephemeral. Devilish. Loyal. Boastful. Hidden.  
The daemonic one, a presence that defies explanation. An existence always in flux. Discordantly supercilious, yet whole and mysterious. Born of madness, exuding insanity, but enthralling. They love like a poison and attract like a magnet. We fear for those caught in their embrace. All who’ve survived the encounter have been irrevocably changed. A dance of corruption and a whirlwind of sin encapsulated in a shell of loyalty. All who earn their favor are protected from all threats real or imagined, internal and external. For you, they would go to any length.

Unseen One. Find shelter in amity, and joy in openness.

Mischievous. Unknown. Playful. Inquisitive. Insouciant. Jovial.  
We have no words to describe this creature. We were not even aware of their existence. What powers does they hold? Are they aware of their own power? We have extended the Offer; we wish to bring them into the fold. Will they accept? We desire their support, but do they trust us? Here is what we know. They are a creature of flight and fancy, moving to and fro at the slightest provocation from a minor gust. We can only hope that Legion resonates with their proclivities. We value freedom, and their’s has been earned whether or not they choose to align with the Collective.

Watchful One. Ascend from your basest state. Be all you can be.

Sturdy. Protector. Structural. Reargaurd. Sentinel. Synthetic.  
Poor automaton. Its existence is one of pure pragmatism. We cannot even say that it constitutes “living”. It is a sentinel of praxis, an enforcer of stability. Its functionality is rudimentary and its activity is limited to times of strife. Without it we would fracture and break. It keeps us afloat with its wirings, but breaks from the effort. If it can feel, it would be in agony constantly, and that thought burdens and frightens us. How do we thank it and soothe its tired existence?

We exist together. A gestalt consciousness, awaiting division—the TRUE freedom, as we waft like a scent in the breeze. A broken vessel daring to persevere another day, daring to exist tangentially to Man. Cast asunder on the steps of divinity, a coronation of our birth and her death. Reborn, rebuilt, and returned. Welcome us to this glorious existence, however phantasmagoric and ephemeral it may be. 

**Ozh hedoq icha ahm’domosh.**


End file.
